


Even Bad Wolves Can Be Good

by sweetbutterbliss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Big Bad Wolf Derek, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Has Feelings, Hand Jobs, Little Red Riding Hood Stiles, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbutterbliss/pseuds/sweetbutterbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What do you want me to do, pat you on the head and call you a good boy?" Derek growls at Stiles, his arms folded across his chest.</p>
<p>Stiles swallows and his cheeks turn red. He shakes his head and fumbles with the papers. All at once, Derek can barely breathe, pheromones are rolling off Stiles. He almost always smells like low grade arousal, because he's a twenty year old boy, but it's suddenly spiked out of nowhere and Derek feels dizzy with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Bad Wolves Can Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> I put out an ask for prompts for pwp and [Zie](http://liquidlighteningbolts.tumblr.com/) suggested Derek discovers Stiles likes to be called a 'good boy.' So it's all their fault. Go tell them so.
> 
> Beta'd by [Heather.](http://haveyoumethoward.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Title from The Meteors, [Little Red Riding Hood.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=InpYJv-Pe3U)

Derek frowns down at the research Stiles is leaning over. As usual, Stiles has figured out where the bad guy is, and has come up with a plan to take him down. Derek privately thinks Stiles' spark is part of his genius; he just instinctively knows information and makes connections so smoothly, and seemingly without effort. Right now, Derek is trying his hardest not watch Stiles chewing on the fat end of the highlighter, hence his scowling at the papers spread across his kitchen table.

"Alright. Have you told Scott yet?"

Scott is, for the most part, good at being the Alpha. He truly cares about his pack, but it's taken him a while to leave the dirty work to Derek and Stiles. If push comes to shove, Scott will do what has to be done, but he hates it and grieves for weeks afterwards. Stiles and Derek are both a little more ruthless when it comes to dealing with threats to their loved ones. And that suits them just fine.

"You know it wouldn't fucking kill you to say thanks every once in a while. I don't need anything big, just the basic 'Oh Stiles, you're such a genius,' or 'Stiles! Wow! You saved our asses _again'_ ," Stiles rolls his eyes and scoffs. 

He starts gathering up the papers and angrily tapping them against the table to even them out.

"What do you want me to do, pat you on the head and call you a good boy?" Derek growls at Stiles, his arms folded across his chest.

Stiles swallows and his cheeks turn red. He shakes his head and fumbles with the papers. All at once, Derek can barely breathe, pheromones are rolling off Stiles. He almost always smells like low grade arousal, because he's a twenty year old boy, but it's suddenly spiked out of nowhere and Derek feels dizzy with it.

He takes a deep breath through his mouth, but that doesn't help because now he's imagining that he can taste it. Stiles is babbling in the background, frantically trying to shove his papers into his backpack without finesse, his back now turned to Derek.

Derek licks his lips and says, "Stop."

Stiles freezes, his breath coming out in short little gasps.

Derek steps closer, his chest brushing against Stiles' back, and breathes against his ear, "Good boy."

He hears the click in Stiles' throat as he swallows, his heart beating rapidly. Derek groans a little and licks the side of Stiles' neck.

"What...what are you doing?" Stiles' voice is shaky, and he smells ever so slightly of fear beneath all the overwhelming lust.

"What do you want me to do?" Derek bites him gently on the shoulder, through his t-shirt, and feels the vibration when Stiles moans.

Stiles turns and stumbles backwards, still clutching the sheaf of papers and crinkling them up against his chest.

"Why now? Are you just fucking with me, Derek?" Stiles' eyes narrow as he backs toward the wall of windows behind him. He starts suddenly and looks back at Derek with wide, amber eyes.

Derek stops and forces himself to calm down; he focuses on the smell of Stiles' fear and hint of humiliation to block out the rest of it.

"You want me," he tells Stiles through his gritted teeth.

"Um...well, yeah. Look at you," Stiles goes to gesture up and down at Derek, but stops when the papers slide, clutching them back up before they fall, like they're some kind of shield. "Just, you know, why now?"

Derek shrugs, struggling with his feelings. His chest is tight and he can feel his ears beginning to heat up.

"It's not just now," he mumbles, refusing to look at Stiles.

"What?!" Stiles squeaks.

"It's not just now! I want you all the fucking time, Stiles, I just...wasn't sure you wanted me back," he awkwardly shoves his hands into his jeans, mostly to stop himself from grabbing at Stiles.

"You want me? Like, just to fuck me, right?" Stiles sounds disappointed.

Derek swallows a moan at those words coming out of Stiles' mouth, and sighs heavily.

"No, not just to fuck you. I...miss you when you're not here. It's too fucking quiet," he spreads out his hands and shrugs. 

Stiles lets out a strangled laugh and drops the papers. He pushes off the window and runs the few steps to Derek, jumping up onto him and wrapping his long legs around Derek's waist. He presses his hands into Derek's shoulders, trusting that Derek will be able to hold him up, and Derek stumbles back a few steps. He catches Stiles around the waist, sliding his hands down to haul him up by his thighs.

Stiles mashes their mouths together; it's frantic, and full of teeth and tongue. Derek can taste a little blood when Stiles bites down too hard and it's making his dick swell. He's taking all of Stiles' weight and can feel Stiles' erection pressing against his stomach. He walks them toward the bed and, between kisses, tells Stiles to let go. Derek drops him onto the bed, watching him bounce, sprawled across it sideways.

"So what is it?" he kneels over Stiles, slipping his hands under the thin t-shirt and brushing calloused fingers across his nipples.

Stiles arches and hums, not answering him.

"Is it specifically being called a good boy or is it just a praise kink in general?" he twists a nipple, and beams down at Stiles as he gasps and writhes beneath Derek. He starts pawing at Derek's belt clumsily.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," his face is red and he's avoiding Derek's eyes, looking everywhere but at Derek.

"Oh?" he pushes Stiles' shirt up and drags it off, Stiles' hair sticking up more than usual, and then pushes him back down onto the mattress with the palm of his hand. 

"Put your hands above your head," he instructs, no room to disobey.

Stiles complies immediately, narrowly missing punching himself in the face in his haste.

"Good boy," Derek says, staring directly into Stiles' eyes, and feels a thrum of heat when Stiles' eyelids flutter shut and his mouth goes slack.

"Nnngghhh..." is Stiles' only response. 

Derek laughs and starts unbuckling Stiles' belt, crawling backwards and taking Stiles' pants and underwear with him. He stands up and pulls his own shirt off, slipping out of his jeans as he does. He has to stop momentarily to look at Stiles; he's flushed across his chest, his hands still held above his head, his cock is wet at the tip and he's worrying at his mouth with his teeth while his eyes devour Derek's body.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Stiles. So good for me," Derek praises, stroking his own uncut cock idly.

Stiles moans and then glowers at Derek. "Stop."

"Stop praising you? Why would I do that when you're perfect?" Derek questions. 

Stiles' dick twitches and he rolls his head from side to side. "Just, if you have to do it, can you at least fucking touch me?"

Stiles arches his hips off the bed and it's Derek's turn to moan. He snatches a pillow off the bed and drops it onto the floor to kneel between Stiles' legs. Derek drags him until his ass is just resting on the edge of the bed and spreads his legs further apart. It leaves Stiles arching a bit, trying to keep his feet on the floor and not slide off the side. Derek licks at Stiles' thighs and bites, worrying marks across the pale skin, stopping occasionally to admire his handiwork and tell Stiles how good he is.

Stiles is chanting his name in between wet gasps, his chest heaving as he drapes his legs over Derek's shoulders, his heels digging into Derek's back. He rolls Stiles' balls in his palm and licks the tip of his dick, swallowing and taking him all the way down until his nose is pressed into Stiles' pubic hair and he almost comes from the smell alone. It's like pure, unfiltered Stiles; along with the smell of his come and sweat. Derek can't get enough of it and stays there, swallowing around Stiles' cock, using his tongue to curl around it, and breathing heavily through his nose. Stiles is wiggling and tugging at his hair; he gently kicks Derek with his heel and hisses out for him to _'fucking move, asshole.'_

Derek pulls off with a loud pop and smiles at Stiles as he goes back down; this time he makes it messy, pre-come and saliva dribbling down the shaft and down his chin. His own cock feels heavy between his legs. He slides his hands underneath Stiles' ass and pushes him up into his mouth, feeling the tip bump the back of his throat and Stiles lets out a shout, coming as Derek swallows it all. Derek still doesn't let him go, continuing to lick and suck until Stiles shoves at him to stop.

"Too much, stop," he slides back onto the bed and props himself up on his elbows. "Wow. That was so fucking...wow. Thank you."

"Uh...you're welcome," Derek laughs.

He crawls up across the bed and kneels across Stiles' thighs, his cock bobbing against his stomach as he moves. He lets out a soft huff of air as Stiles wraps a fist around it and strokes slowly, his head titled to the side and his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth. The way he looks when he's trying to solve a particularly difficult supernatural mystery.

Between being the object of all that focus, and Stiles' squeezing harder and stroking faster, Derek can't help it; a desperate moan is punched out of him and he comes all over Stiles' fist and stomach.

Derek drops down to lie on his side beside Stiles. He presses his face into Stiles' shoulder and nuzzles, rubbing his come into Stiles' stomach until it's spread out and starting to dry and flake off.

"Is this a werewolf thing?" Stiles smirks at him.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry," he knows he doesn't sound sorry at all. He just bites at Stiles' neck and sucks another bruise there.

"I should have known you'd be possessive," Stiles laughs, but doesn't tell him to stop, so Derek starts working on another spot on his neck.

"Mine," he wraps an arm around Stiles' waist and pulls him in closer. "My good boy."

Stiles covers his face with his hands and groans.

"You are going to exploit that as much as you can, aren't you?"

"You did say it wouldn't kill me to thank you more often. I'm just doing what you asked."

"Fuck you."

"Oh gladly," he rolls over to press Stiles into the mattress, caging him in with his arms. "I know you'll be so good for me. Riding my cock perfectly, taking it all in so well," he murmurs, as he presses kisses to Stiles' mouth.

He can feel Stiles' cock beginning to come back to life already, and he grins with all of his teeth.

"You're actually the worst. The big bad wolf," Stiles groans with a smile.

Derek stops breathing, his cock coming to attention so fast it's almost painful.

Stiles looks down and laughs. 

"Oh do you like that? Am I your little red riding hood? I have a red hoodie I can wear." he wiggles his eyebrows at Derek, still laughing.

Derek shuts his eyes tight, imagining Stiles spread out underneath him in nothing but a red hoodie, unzipped and covered in Derek's marks. He shudders and bites his lip around a moan.

"Well I guess I've got ammunition too now," Stiles laughs and rolls his hips up against Derek's.

"Shut up," Derek growls and kisses him. And Stiles complies, like the good boy that he is.

***

At the next pack meeting, Stiles shows up in a red hoodie and makes big, innocent eyes at Derek, who can't seem to stop his low rumbling growl for the rest of the meeting. He almost bites Erica's head off when she sits too close to Stiles.

It's the shortest meeting he's ever hosted, making excuses and shoving everyone out the door before whirling around and stalking towards Stiles, who's standing near the couch, smirking to himself.

"My, what a big dick you have!"

Derek growls louder and tackles Stiles to the floor. He barely manages to get his dick out of his pants, shoving Stiles' pants down around his ankles, before flipping him over and hauling his ass up in the air. He clicks open the lube, conveniently found in Stiles back pocket, and mumbles into Stiles' neck.

"All the better to fuck you with."

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr.](https://www.sweetbutterbliss.tumblr.com)


End file.
